The Void Beckons
by Owlfisher
Summary: Unrest is broiling in Runeterra. Champions are disappearing without a trace, the restless spirits never cease their attacks, and death reigns terror over the land. Will old enemies unite to defeat this new foe, or will they be picked off slowly one by one?
1. Prologue

There was nothing left inside Illaoi but darkness.

She could feel it tearing away at her being, burning away the only humanity she had left bit by painful bit. Something ancient, something dark, something inherently cruel seduced her mind, whispering to her from the darkest corners of her tangled thoughts.

 _Kill._

 _Rend._

 _Smash them to bits._

 _End them all.  
_

Illaoi was poisoned, touched by the corruption of the Void. There was no going back.

It felt like home.

As the darkness slowly cradled her in its never-ending embrace, she began to forget. The goddess she had once revered disappeared without a remaining fragment in her broken mind. Illaoi tried to hold on, reminded herself that this is all she lived for. The dark did not heed her iron will; the Void offered no mercy.

She hailed a new god now.

She forgot the name of the pirate she had once loved. She relished in the memory of his broken heart now.

She forgot her name. She became only a vessel of power, oh that delicious power. It coursed through her veins like acid, pulsing and volatile and endless. The scream in her body, in her mind, melded as one.

She felt no pain.

She was the void bringer now.

She was death.


	2. Chapter 1: Unease

Something was off in the land of Runeterra.

Her killer instinct sensed it long before her body did.

Katarina felt it down to her bones, felt the energy in the land that was not quite right. It was a veiled and ugly threat, hanging in the air, seemingly mocking that long scar on her eye.

 _Look at how marked you are_ , it would whisper.

 _What an abomination you've made of yourself..._

She'd accepted that scar long before, that night after her blades drank their fill and the mens' screams echoed across the empty ground. The night where she realized that mistakes always held consequences. The night where she finally accepted that she was a killer.

Her hunt had never stopped since then, and her blades cut and danced a path of crimson through the lands. All knew the Sinister Blade, the beauty with the crimson hair and the deadly prowl of her steps; all knew her mastery with her blades. Even now, standing in a sea of twisted branches and white bark in a petrified forest, her heart sang and leaped with desire to spill blood.

Blood for her homeland.

Katarina stiffened as the wind suddenly shifted. She turned her head towards the rapidly setting sun. It carried with it the taint of something strange...

 _Fire._

Her emerald eyes glittered with a sudden feral glee, and her mouth curled into a half-smirk. In the dead forest where she stood, it was all too easy to see the thin trail of smoke rising into the clouds. What foolish traveler dared to make his camp on this territory, especially this far out?

Finally, some prey for Noxus.

She turned on her heel and began to prowl toward the delicate ribbon of gray smoke. Her movements had a feline grace to them, each step light enough to not disturb the dead leaves and moss underfoot. It was far too easy as she slipped through the shadows with practiced ease, each stride bringing her closer and closer to the source of that fire.

She felt that sudden offness again as she neared, that sense that something was terribly wrong.

 _Back away_ , a voice in her head whispered.

Katarina paid it no heed, and continued on. She saw the glow of embers now, as clear and bright as day.

 _What a fool._

She padded up, and peered into a clearing ringed by dead trees all around. That wind blew again, and the branches shook in a death rattle as Katarina's smirk slowly faded away.

It was a child.

A little girl, in fact, with hair almost as red as Katarina's own. She wore an understated violet headband with animal ears attached, and she hummed and sang to herself as she rocked back and forth before the warmth of a fire. Her diminutive form, illuminated by the soft orange light of the embers, seemed all the smaller as the night closed in.

She couldn't kill a child. There was no honor in it, no humanity. Katarina's brow furrowed as she wondered what a child was doing out here all alone. Making a quick decision in her mind, the assassin stepped out of the shadows.

"Little girl, what are you doing out here? Are you lost?

The girl said nothing. Her humming continued.

"Are you listening to me? Where are your parents?"

The little girl's humming increased to a frenetic pace, and she began to rock back and forth alarmingly fast.

"What - "

Katarina never finished her sentence.

The girl turned around, and Katarina let out a muted gasp.

She wasn't simply sitting in front of a fire; the small girl was shaping it with her hands, playing with it, and _using it._ She was a mage, and a highly-skilled one too for one so young.

The girl finally spoke.

"You're starting to annoy me..."

Katarina jerked back, surprised by the amount of hidden malice in those words. Her eyes widened. The little girl said it with the innocent air of an angel, but her face was twisted into a mask of rage.

Katarina began to back away slowly, never taking her eyes off of the suddenly terrifying figure before her.

She bumped into something behind her.

She hadn't even sensed it, even with her copious training; it was like it had simply materialized behind her.

She lifted her face towards it, and her body began to scorch.

 _A creature made of flames? No, impossible._

It was a bear. A stuffed bear, in fact, its eyes glowing with malice. Embers danced all around it, forming an aura of heat and fire.

Katarina whirled back, and began to run as fast as she could.

"Tibbers, go get her! I wanna play!"

Katarina had made a terrible mistake.


End file.
